


Leaves by Night, Flowers by Day

by HeroMaggie



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Cancer, Depression, Disordered Eating, Grief/Mourning, Hawke/OFC - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Sexual Scene, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 00:36:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5806468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeroMaggie/pseuds/HeroMaggie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dr. Mikhail Anders was a happily married man and a top surgeon in his field until loss had him stepping back from everything he loves. A brochure in the mail and a push from his best friend brings him face to face with a man who will challenge his views on sacrifice, what it means to live, and help him flourish and grow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [draco_illius_noctis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/draco_illius_noctis/gifts).



> Major thanks to Emotionalmorphine for editing, your constant support, and always being there with a shoulder. Truly, I owe more than I can say to you.

“Rest at the Maker’s right hand and be forgiven. Amen.” The Chantry Priestess bowed her head, the congregation following suit. The small casket sat at the front of the Chantry, tiny and covered in a spray of lilies and baby’s breath, the curve of a small face just visible. Anders closed his eyes. “I’m so sorry…”

_I’m so sorry. So sorry. Inoperable. We tried. There was nothing more to be done. Not even my magic could bring him back. I’m so sorry...sorry...sorry._

“Thank you for coming, Doctor Anders. We appreciate it,” Mrs Patterson said, eyes glazed and voice toneless. “Wilhelm was in good hands with you.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” The words were ashes in his mouth. His hand trembled as he took hers, both of them so cold. “If there is anything I can do...”

“You were always there for us.” Mr. Patterson laid his hand on his shoulder, added weight he couldn’t handle. “You did more than your best, and we thank you for it.”

Then he was moving along. Anders squinted up at the sky as a breeze ruffled his hair, warm air drying tears against his cheeks. Shoulders hunched, and face pinched with grief, he got in his car and headed to the hospital.

Disinfectant and the tang of scrubbed air filled his nose. Swallowing and rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, Anders stood next to his desk. On the wall, elaborately matted and framed diplomas mocked him. So did the cork board filled with the smiling faces of those he had saved. Those he could save. How many more faces should be up there?

He rubbed a finger along the edge of his desk and picked up the photo. Karl’s face smiled back at him - small laugh lines crinkled around his eyes and lips. There in the corner of the frame was a small photo of Wilhelm - cheeks still pudgy, a gooey smile on his face. Closing his eyes, he put the photos face-down on his desk. With a final glance at his office, he walked through the door and slowly, quietly, closed it behind him.

***

The spoon clinked against porcelain, the sound blending with Anders’ sigh. He gave the tea another stir before laying the spoon gently on his saucer. He watched the tea swirl, his fingers tapping lightly on the table.

“Rougher day than normal?” Colla leaned back in her chair. “You’re looking particularly scruffy today.”

“I want to go out and work in the garden. I do. The weather is so pretty.” Anders’ voice trembled.

“But?” Colla asked.

“Everything hurts.” A groan accompanied a stretch, muscles refusing to unclench. “You must think I’m pathetic.”

“Mikhail Ivan Anders,” Colla snapped.

“Brought out the full name, hmm? I’m sorry. Yesterday was such a good day. I pulled weeds, played with Pounce. I even went out and got coffee.”

“Anders,” Colla grumbled. “Nobody said recovery would be fast or easy.”

“True.” Anders gave his best friend a sad smile while fiddling with his long blond hair. “But it could at least go a little faster. It’s been five months.”

Colla snorted softly and pushed over a plate of Antivan wedding cookies. “I baked those for you, by the way.”

“Because covering me in sticky powdered sugar is always a favorite?” Anders grabbed a cookie despite his words, shoving the entire pastry into his mouth. Powdered sugar sprayed from his lips as he bit down. His garbled protests made Colla laugh.

“Colla, quit laughing at me,” Anders wheezed.

“Oh shut up and eat another one.” She leaned back in her chair, balancing it on two legs. “If I’m over here shoving cookies into your face, I’m not stuck staring at the next outline.”

“Who’s going to die this time?” Anders chose another cookie, this one also densely covered in sugar. He blew some of the loose sugar at Colla.

She laughed. “Ugh. The pastry chef. For crimes against cannoli. Detective Nic finds the hapless baker face down in a vat of overly sugared mascarpone.”

“The horror,” deadpanned Anders.

“I know! Ruining a perfectly good pastry is a crime against Antivans. I’m just pointing out that the murderer is doing the public a favor by stopping this man.” Colla waved a cookie at Anders. “I bet he overcooks his noodles.”

Anders shook his head. Nichola ‘Colla’ Rossi was a known food snob in the neighborhood - at least when it came to Antivan cuisine. “You know, you could not kill him for once and have him learn how to cook.”

“People want drama. They want corpses. They want their noodles _al dente_ ,” Colla said. “They don’t want the mascarpone over-sugared.”

The words faded into the air, silence settling between them both briefly. And then Anders snorted with laughter and Colla choked on the powdered sugar. “Maker. You’re something.”

“It’s one of the reasons why you love me.” Colla stood and brushed sugar from her shirt. “Alright you, I’ve got errands to run and dinner to fix. You going to be ok? Do I need to bring you food?”

“I was thinking maybe a sandwich.” Anders gazed out at the garden, a small frown on his face. “I have some blueberries that need eating.”

“Good.” Colla kissed his forehead. “You eat, and I’ll check in...what...tomorrow? Day after?”

“Tomorrow is therapy.” Anders gazed up at Colla. “How about the day after for lunch?”

“We’ll go down the street to that new fusion place. Par Vollen cooking. Thoughts?”

Anders crinkled up his nose. “How about the Ferelden cafe?”

That made Colla grumble. “Fine. But you’re paying. And now...I’m off. Don’t forget to eat.”

“Don’t be a nag.” Anders followed her into the house only to stop in the kitchen. He watched Colla leave before pulling out a carton of blueberries and shuffling back to the patio to sink into his chair.

He popped a blueberry into his mouth as he surveyed the garden. The beds were choked with weeds and dead foliage. The pathways were littered with more weeds and downed branches from the overgrown fruit trees. Spring had hit and the storms had done a number on the plants.

Grumbling, Anders stood, unwilling to stare any longer at a garden that used to flourish. Last year at this time he had been out there clearing out the winter leaves, prepping the beds for the warmth of late spring, and adding new rock to the paths. He would have walked out there and found Karl kneeling in the dirt, beard messy and a leaf in his hair. He would have…

Anders spun, chest heaving, and walked into the cottage, door slamming behind him.

***

Anders sat on the couch, book on his lap and his cat next to him when Colla walked in. She stopped, a small smile playing on her lips. “You’re dressed.”

“I am. First time this week. I even pulled out the khakis for you. It’s almost enough to get dessert in celebration,” Anders said. “I’m also hungry.”

“Even better. Hey, I grabbed your mail for you. You do remember to check it, right?” Colla had a handful of letters that she placed on the breakfast bar. “Junk, junk, bill, junk, bill, bill...hello what’s this?”

“What’s what?” Anders put his book down and stood. “Another bill?”

“No. It’s a brochure for a lawn service. _Bird’s of a Feather Lawn Care_. We specialize in hard-to-treat lawns, specialty gardens, and landscaping. Hey Anders, you should check them out.” Colla thrust the colorful paper at him.

“A gardening service? Why?” Anders dutifully took the brochure and read down the list of services offered. “I have all this time…”

“That you use sitting and staring. Look, nobody has complained yet...yet. But you and I both know it’s just a matter of time before the Rutherford’s start. And then there’s the Pentaghast’s. And don’t get me started on the Pavus household.” Her nose crinkled. “Did you know he moved a Qunari in?”

Anders frowned at Colla. “Stop that. You’re as bad as everybody else. I happen to have met him at the store a week ago. Nice fellow. Very large.”

“He’s a Qunari. Everybody knows they worship in a cult.” Colla forgot about the lawn service in favor of gossiping. “Plus, he has horns. Horns, Anders! Oh! Think we could put little bows on them for Wintersend?”

“Colla! And just who is this everybody I always hear about? They’re so judgemental.” His fingers tightened around the brochure while he stared at the front yard. The wind blew dead leaves over the brown grass. Overgrown bushes vied for space with scraggly rose bushes, weeds spilling from the flowerbeds. “I’ll call them.”

“You will?” Colla perked up. “Promise?”

“I do. Karl would be devastated if he saw the state I’ve let the cottage fall into. I should…” His gaze darted around. “Clean.”

“One step at a time. Call them after lunch?” She laid her hand on his arm, brown eyes meeting his. “I’m proud of you. You saw you needed help, and now you’re getting it handled.”

Anders carefully put the brochure down. “After lunch I’ll call them. It wouldn’t hurt to find out if everything can be fixed up. Who knows, maybe they can even fix the backyard.”

***

Three days later and Anders and Colla were on the back patio waiting on a Mr Garrett Hawke to come by to evaluate the lawn. Anders hunched in on himself, chewing on his lips. “Perhaps this was a poor decision on my part.”

“Perhaps you are just being ridiculous.”

“You should be working.”

She waved him off. “The story is being difficult. Besides, I don’t want you swindled.” Her words ended as the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it.”

“Colla…”

“I’ll get it. You just come inside and try to look decently pleased to meet him.” Colla shook her head and headed inside. She glanced back to make sure Anders had followed before opening the front door, blinking at the man standing there. Anders laid his hand on her shoulder and smiled.

“Yes? May I help you?”

“Hi!” The man’s voice was a rich baritone and Colla’s response was to smile and toss her long brown hair over her shoulder. “I’m Garrett Hawke, owner of _Bird’s of a Feather Lawn Care_. I believe you called for a lawn assessment?”

“Ah. Yes. I’m Misha Anders.” Anders reached over Colla to shake Garrett’s hand.

“And is this Mrs. Anders?” Garrett smiled widely.

There was a stunned silence and then both Anders and Colla snickered. “She’s not my wife.” Anders tried to dodge a shoulder punch as Colla turned and flailed at him. “I mean, I should be so lucky.”

“Damn right,” Colla muttered. She turned back to Garrett and flashed him another smile. “I’m Nicola Rossi - call me Colla. Everybody does. I live next door. You could come take a look at my lawn.”

He leaned forward an inch. “From where I’m standing, your lawn looks perfect. But perhaps I could give it a more...professional...once over later.”

“Are you giggling?” Anders gazed down in awe at the giggling Colla. “You are. You’re giggling. Tittering, even. I’ve never seen you titter. Well...to celebrate this momentous occasion, can I invite you in?”

“How about you come out here and we do a walk of the lawn?” Garrett was beaming at Colla now.

“The backyard needs more work than the front, but we can start here and then head on back.” Anders stepped around Colla, who was rapidly turning red. “Colla, do you want to come with me?”

“I’ll stay with Pounce. Thanks.” Colla waved a little at Garrett. “But I really do live next door. If you want to set up an appointment…”

Garrett gave a low chuckle and rifled in the back pocket of his tight jeans. Pulling out a slim wallet, he retrieved a business card, taking a moment to scribble something on the back with a pen he found in his shirt pocket. “Here.”

“Oo…” Colla turned the card over, went beet red, and giggled again, retreating into the house.

Anders raised an eyebrow, lips slightly pursed. Garrett gave an unrepentantly cheerful smile. “My cell, my work phone, and my home phone.”

“Right, well...let’s go look at the front lawn. Then really, you can tell me what we can do to fix the backyard. Besides torching it. I’m definitely against that.”

“No worries. We can fix any lawn care issues. Any,” Garrett said with a nod and a familiar slap on the back.

Anders’ lips thinned, other eyebrow arching up to meet the first. Garrett’s cheerful smile grew wider, eyebrows waggling back at Anders, who shook his head and bit his lip.

***

Anders pressed a hand to his chest as he reviewed the tentative schedule for his lawn maintenance: a six month timeline of constant work in his backyard with follow-up weekly maintenance and weekly treatments for the front yard, new flower beds, and new landscaping. There had been talk of digging up the yard for a sprinkler system - which he had panned - and talk of adding a small pond to the backyard - which he liked.

All in all it would be a major undertaking. The front yard was in need of general maintenance, but the backyard was overgrown. Some plants were running wild, some had died off. Some of the hardier varieties were choking out the more tender, delicate herbs. What he had thought was well-planned was turning out to be a disaster of improperly placed plants separated by badly designed edging.

“Now, I’m good with the lawn maintenance stuff, and my sister-in-law is a real whizz with landscape design, but for the backyard you need a specialist.” Garrett made notes on a tablet. “I happen to employ one. He’s a little crotchety, a little cranky...doesn’t much care for personal interaction. But he’s one hell of a gardener.”

Anders blinked. “So...he’s basically a cranky old man who likes to grub in the dirt?”

Garrett grinned. “Sure, you could say that. Metaphorically speaking, of course. If you’d like, I could have him come over and give you his honest opinion. I’m still sticking with the six months...but who knows, maybe he’ll think it’ll take less time. Stranger things have happened.” Anders gazed at the garden and then glanced at Colla.

“It’s worth a look, Anders. You love that garden,” Colla said.

Anders sighed. “Do you have his card?”

“I’ll do one better and have him stop by. How about a week from today?” Garrett made another note.

“That will be fine,” Anders said. “And when will you start?”

“In two days. How’s that?” Garrett asked.

Anders nodded and held out his hand. “It’s a deal. Thank you.”

“No, no. The pleasure is all mine.” Garrett winked at Colla. “Well then. I’ll have Fenris stop by and see you next week. And if you need anything, here’s my card. Anders, it’s been a pleasure.”

Anders stayed on the back porch as Colla left to show Garrett to the front door. If he closed his eyes he could see the garden as it used to be - vibrant, flourishing, growing...alive. Opening his eyes he saw the weeds, the decay...the dead spots and dying plants. He rubbed a hand over his chest and turned to head back into the house.


	2. Chapter 2

The doorbell rang bright and early. Anders shuffled to the door and opened it. Grimacing, he scratched at his still mussed hair.

“You are Mikhail Anders, correct?” The man on his doorstep was beautiful - lean and dark with big green eyes and striking white hair that stuck out from under a Kirkwall Champion’s baseball cap. “I am Fenris Isley, the gardener.”

‘I am, yes. Call me Anders. Come in, and I’ll show you the garden.” Anders stepped to the side and tried not to gawk. The man, Fenris, gave a curt nod and stepped into the cottage. “It’s the backyard.”

“Am I too early?” Fenris glanced around and pulled his cap off. His white hair was pulled back into a messy topknot exposing slender pointed ears. Scratching at the back of his neck, the elf turned those big green eyes towards Anders. “I could return in half an hour.”

“Ah, no. No. I was just having tea...it’s...no. Let me show you the garden. Yes.” Anders flexed his hands and tried, again, to smile.

“Is it because I am an elf?” Fenris raised an eyebrow.

“Excuse me?” Anders blinked. “Is what?”

“Your nerves. Many people view elves as little more than thieves or charlatans.” Fenris pursed his lips.

“No.” He huffed. “I was expecting some old man who would futz around in the backyard and nag me.”

“I see. I am not old, nor do I futz. However, I do nag.”

“That’s, um, good to know. I think.” Anders gave a weak smile and closed the front door. “It’s this way. The backyard.”

He led Fenris through the cottage and out onto the patio. In the early morning, the garden glimmered with dew. It looked wild: an untamed mess of herbs, flowering plants, and secretive paths. Anders winced, flushing slightly. “Here it is. The garden.”

Fenris was quiet as he took it in. He hesitated and stepped onto a path and began to walk the garden. Anders watched him, tugged at his mussed hair, and then followed.

They walked the entire backyard, following zigzagging paths that wound between overgrown beds. Every so often, Fenris would give a soft hum and nod, fingers twitching. Then would continue on as if he hadn’t made a noise. It was curious, but Anders was feeling a little too intimidated to ask anything. Fenris seemed stoic and aloof - his face a blank mask as they walked past overgrown and dying plants.

Eventually they found themselves back on the patio. Anders watched as Fenris tapped his chin and nodded to himself. “Tell me about the garden.”

“Um.” Anders hadn’t been expecting the question and tugged lightly on his long hair as he thought. “It was planted years ago. A gift by my husband. He knew I had always loved herbs and flowers, and it was a way to relax after a long day at the hospital.”

Fenris glanced at Anders. “Are you a doctor?”

“I am.” Anders’s fingers dropped from his hair. Crossing his arms across his chest, he dug his fingers into his arms. “Pediatric Oncology.”

“A field that is filled with mostly mage doctors,” Fenris noted, face twisted into something of a sneer. “My sister’s son became ill. We could not find a non-mage doctor.”

“A non-mage doctor? Why would you be looking for a non-mage doctor?” Anders’s hands shook a little, and he tightened his grip, knuckles going white.

Fenris was staring openly at Anders, hostility in his gaze. “We dislike magic.”

“Ah.” Perhaps Hawke knew a different specialist.

“So you are a mage doctor, then?” Fenris was openly frowning now.

“If that’s a problem, I would understand if you refused to work here.” Anders sat at the table, his shoulders slumping.

Fenris gazed at him a moment longer and then turned to take in the garden. “Do not be ridiculous. My best estimate is six months. I agree with Hawke on that. I also agree that a small decorative pond would be a suitable addition. Maybe close to the porch. I do like the wild feeling, the meandering paths and mixed beds. It will be a lot of work to bring this back, but it can be done.”

“Oh...when can you start?”

“I will start this week. Is that acceptable?” Fenris didn’t look at Anders, gaze still on the plants.

“Yes. Yes it is.”

***

“He’s been here every day for the past two weeks. Even the weekends, which is a bit odd.” Anders sat scrunched in a chair on the patio, gaze on Fenris’ topknot.

“He’s hot,” Colla said, shrugging when Anders glared at her.

“He hates me. I don’t blame him.”

“You don’t...what kind of...should I talk to him?” Colla looked ready to leap from her chair, a snarl on her face.

“No. Wait, Colla, no.” Anders panicked, eyes wide and breath coming in pants. “He doesn’t like mages. It’s ok. I hear it all the time.”

Frowning, Colla shook her head. “And you shouldn’t have to. And he’s wrong.”

Anders settled down and pulled his legs back up. “It doesn’t matter. I start back to work next week, and he won’t have to see me during the day.”

“And?” Colla raised an eyebrow.

“I haven’t slept since I saw the calendar. All I can see is...is…” Anders pressed his face tightly to his knees. “I can’t go back.”

“So don’t. Quit. Find another place to work. Your boss is an ass, anyways. She didn’t even come to the funeral.” Colla kicked at the table leg.

“Which?” Anders’s voice was hollow, hopeless sounding.

“Either of them.” The snort was followed by a clank as Colla put her teacup down. “High and mighty bitch.”

Anders shrugged, too tired to argue. Too worn to care. “I’ll return. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll figure something out.”

Colla frowned. “You’d better. And you should think about a different gardener. You don’t need that sort of stress and strain right now.”

Anders watched Fenris stand, body stretching into a tight, lithe line. The sun glinted off his muscles, over his back. The elf looked relaxed, pleased, a little smile tilting up his lips. That smile disappeared when he turned his head and saw Anders.

“No. I don’t want another gardener. I like him. He’s fine,” Anders said. “He reminds me that there’s more out there than my pain. I need that.”

Colla sniffed, but left it alone. Instead she gently pushed a bowl of dumplings and chicken at Anders. “Eat some. I made it fresh for you.”

Anders half-heartedly took the bowl and spooned some onto his plate. Biting into a dumpling, his gaze returned to Fenris. There was a stiff line to the elf’s back, as if he was waiting for Anders to stride out there and berate him. Anders turned in his seat and focused on his food.

***

Anxiety filled Anders. An edge of panic that butted up against the urge to hide under his covers and never move. He sat on his bed staring at his clock and watching the time tick away, the panic tightening in his chest until he stood and grabbed his car keys, straightened his tie, and left.

His office was eerily just as he had left it: coat hanging up, pictures face-down on the desk, no paperwork or patient folders in his box. He slipped his coat on and stepped out into the hall to see if anybody else was around.

Dr Wynne Faith sat at her desk examining an MRI. Anders hesitated and then stepped in, dredging up a small smile. “Wynne.”

“Anders, you’re back.” Wynne looked up with a smile, placing the MRI on her desk. “We all missed you so much; your patients more than anybody. How are you?”

He knew better than to lie. Wynne was intuitive and empathetic. It made her an excellent doctor and a perennial favorite with the younger children. “I’m...here.”

Wynne hummed. “You couldn’t take more time?

Anders wrung his hands. “Doctor Stannard wouldn’t approve anymore bereavement leave.”

Tutting, Wynne motioned at Anders to sit. “That woman. No feelings, no empathy. I’m still not sure how she made department head.”

“She’s good at her job, Wynne. Well, good in an administrative position.” Anders sighed. “It’s been six months, shouldn’t I…”

“You lost your husband and a patient all at once. You are doing the best you can, dear,” Wynne said. “Mourning hits everyone differently.”

“I wonder what I could have done differently.” Anders stared at his hands, flexed them, called up a wisp of his magic and then released it. “A different treatment? Faster treatment?”

“I looked at the patient file. Anders, you did everything you could have. Wilhelm was sick...very sick. You gave his parents time to say goodbye.” Compassion filled Wynne’s eyes.

Anders stood, unable to handle anymore platitudes. “All I did was prolong his suffering. It would have been kinder to take him off life support.” He clenched his hands into fists, nodded to Wynne, and left. He walked back to his office and then collapsed at his desk, tears streaking his face.

He lasted till five.

At home, he found Fenris still toiling in the garden. He stood by the french doors and watched him work, Fenris’ hands steadily sorting through foliage as he pulled weeds and dying plants. Anders gathered his courage and stepped to the patio and then out to the garden.

“How’s it going?” he stammered. “Can I get you anything?”

“Quiet,” Fenris muttered. “I need nothing but quiet and peace and to get this done.”

“It’s a warm day. Maybe some water?” Anders tried again.

Fenris stared up at Anders, frowning. “Hawke brought me on to work in your garden, not be a friend. If this is a problem, speak with him. Otherwise, leave me to my work, mage.”

Anders swallowed at the venom in the words, at the black pit that seemed to open in his chest. He nodded silently and slowly walked back into the house. He retreated to his room where he curled up in a ball on the bed and stayed there, watching the shadows lengthen and listened for the tell-tale sounds of Fenris putting away his tools and exiting through the side gate.

He didn’t move again until morning.

***

“Anders, may I have a word?” Meredith stood at the door to his office, her lips pulled down in a grimace, arms crossed tightly over her chest.

“Yes, of course.” Anders put down the file he was reviewing and gestured to an office chair. Meredith screwed up her face, but sat anyway. “What can I do for you, Doctor Stannard?”

“You have been back a week and have yet to take on any new patients. You have not done a single procedure beyond recommendations. In short, you are neglecting your work.”

Anders clenched his hands into fists and then relaxed them. “I’m not ready yet.”

“I cannot coddle you. Death is part of life, Anders. It is part of our job. I am sorry your husband died, but your situation is not unique. I need you to do your job.” Meredith’s jaw clenched.

“And if I can’t?” Anders kept his eyes down.

Meredith ignored his question. “You’re a good doctor, but too soft. Toughen up, do your job. Cancer is a terrible illness, one that must be stamped out. Sometimes we lose people in the war to stop it.”

“They should matter.” Anders raised his eyes, his voice firm. “We should mourn their loss.”

“Wilhelm was not your child. Get over it, and move on. I expect you in here tomorrow ready to schedule procedures. Do not make me come see you again.” Meredith stalked to the door. “Karl was a good man. A good doctor. What you’ve become would shame him.”

Those words reverberated in the air long after she was gone. They circled around in Anders’s brain, burrowing deep and infecting him with doubts. He couldn’t take sitting at his desk a moment more. He left. He didn’t care if she fired him; he couldn’t stay there another minute.

The moment he stepped into the cottage, he deflated - his shoulders drooping and body dragging. Home...his haven. He breathed in and choked on the tears. His haven - but an empty one. Karl was gone; he wasn’t coming back. And for the first time it hit home that there would be no second chances.

He dragged himself to the patio. Still in his work clothes, tie askew and shirt untucked, he lowered himself into a chair and then covered his face with his hands as the tears started in earnest. The loneliness rose up to choke him, clogging his lungs as the tears came faster and sobs spilled from him.

Folded up, knees tucked against his chest, he keened and rocked as the pain strangled him. His mind spiraled down into the black pit - returning to a place he had thought he had conquered already. It made him shake harder, made the sobs sharper and more painful.

There was a noise, a shuffle on the patio pavers, and Anders glanced up. Fenris stood there, head tilted and eyes on him. Anders sniffled, flushing at how closely he was being watched.

“Why are you crying, mage?” Fenris shifted, fingers twitching.

“Just a bad day.” Anders hoped that would satisfy.

“Every day this week, your expression has been serious. You leave looking as if you go to your death. You return with a look like you have survived torture. And today, I find you in tears.” Anders was stunned to realize Fenris had noticed. “What happened?”

“They want me to start doing procedures again, treating new patients.” Anders rested his aching head against his knee.

“Are you not a doctor?” Fenris sniffed. “Is that not your job?”

“I don’t know what I am anymore,” Anders whispered.

“You are a mage and a doctor. Your job is to remind the rest of us that our health, our very existence, is at your whim.” The words were spat at him.

“I...no. What?” Anders gaped at Fenris.

“My nephew needed treatment. We could find no doctor willing to help an elf, no mage doctor would touch him without full payment upfront. Elves are thieves. Liars.” Fenris’ hands cut through the air. “I sold myself for the money. I...what I did...three years to repay the money we received to cure him. Two more to work for my own freedom. Five years. Five years lost to a magister because no mage doctor would touch him.”

“I’m sorry...I…” Anders slumped.

“Sorry? Sorry doesn’t get back those missing years. Sorry doesn’t give my nephew back the lung they took. Sorry doesn’t give my sister a better job or a husband,” Fenris yelled. “I’m done for today. I will be back tomorrow.”

Anders watched him stomp out. Closing his eyes, he let out the breath that had backed up in his throat. Head down, he let the quiet seep into his bones, into his skin.

It was late when he stood and wandered back into the cottage and back to his home office. His desk was a mess of papers from the funeral, statements of what Karl had left him, and hospital bereavement paperwork.

He pulled the hospital paperwork to him and began to look through the stack, finding the section that reviewed his options regarding employment. Reading it slowly, his gaze lingered on a paragraph. He put the paperwork down and leaned back in his chair.

He had a lot to consider before morning.

***

His phone sat on the table. Sipping at a cup of tea, Anders reached for it and then stopped. Reached for it and stopped...and then finally picked it up. He hesitated and then scrolled down his contacts to Meredith Stannard.

It rang just once before she picked it up.

“Yes?”

“I quit,” Anders said, willing himself to be firm.

“You… Anders. Is that you?” It sounded like Meredith had stood and closed her office door. “What is this about?”

“I refuse to work for a woman with so little empathy. I refuse to lower myself to your standards. I refuse to give up who I am. I quit,” Anders repeated, his voice gaining in firmness.

“I refuse to accept. You have not given proper notice.”

“I don’t have to. My bereavement leave allows me time to decide if I can continue in this line of work. I can request transfer to a different department if I wish or leave. I do not wish to stay there.”

Meredith was silent, only her breathing letting Anders know she was still on the line. Finally, she cleared her throat. “Is there any way you will reconsider?”

“No. I’m sorry. I’ll be by to clean out my desk.” Anders waited a moment and then hit End. Hands shaking, he exhaled and closed his eyes, found his center, and then scrolled back through his contacts. Hitting a button, he turned to gaze out the doors to the garden, catching sight of Fenris’ white hair as the elf settled next to some plants.

“Hey, Anders. Need to schedule me to come over early?” Hawke’s voice was chipper.

“Garrett.” This was the hard phone call; the one he knew he needed to make. Still, the words seemed to stick in his throat. “I need to talk to you about Fenris.”

“Shit.” It sounded like Garrett had kicked something. “Look, give me half an hour. I’ll be there and we can talk.”

“I… you don’t have to…” Anders stumbled over his words.

“I’ll bring you breakfast. Colla says you don’t eat enough.” Garrett talked over Anders. There was some chatting in the background and Garrett laughed. “Colla said she’ll come with me.”

“Colla’s at your place?” Anders goggled at the phone.

There was the sound of scuffling, Garrett’s voice yelling out, “I was checking out her bushes,” and then a loud “Ouch!”

“Anders. What happened? Why are you calling? What did Fenris do? Do I need to kick his ass?” Colla was breathless. There were more scuffling noises and Colla yelling “I’ll kick his ass if he hurt Anders!” followed by pleading from Garrett.

“Do not move. We will be there in...half an hour. Yes. Like Garrett said. I’ll bring you muffins,” Colla ordered. She hung up, the yell “It was just a pinch--” cutting off.

Anders stared at his phone, carefully put it down, and returned to drinking his tea. He wasn’t quite ready to touch on that phone call.

Anders was curled on the couch, Pounce on his lap, when the doorknob on the front door jiggled. There was some loud whispering, and then Colla unlocked the door and let them both in.

“Ok. Spill. And I brought muffins.” Colla stormed in like the cavalry, face red and hands full of bakery bags. Garrett followed behind her, a sheepish smile on his face.

“I…” Anders licked his lips and cuddled Pounce closer. “I quit.”

“Good,” Colla said as she sailed into the kitchen. “About time. Your boss was a bitch.”

Garrett shook his head and sat down. “And Fenris?”

“Fenris…” Anders glanced at the french doors to the patio. “He hates mages.”

Garrett let out a long sigh and scrubbed at his face. “Shit. I should have thought to check. Did he do anything? Hurt you?”

“Just yelled a bit.” Anders dug his fingers into Pounce’s fur a little too tight, and the cat gave a disgruntled _mrrp_ and jumped down. Free of the cat, Anders pulled his legs up and clutched his knees. “He told me he was a slave?”

“Yes. He paid back his slave bond and then got the hell out of there. His sister’s still in Tevinter. She got pregnant by a mage...the kid is, apparently, a mage. To gain apprenticeship, she has to stay. He sends money back.” Garrett rubbed the back of his neck. “Do you want to fire him?”

Anders hugged his knees tightly. “I want to help Fenris.”

Colla groaned. “He hates you. He’s a bigot.”

“It doesn’t mean I can’t help. I had thought perhaps money to help his nephew recover.” Anders glanced at Hawke, who shrugged. “But his nephew is a mage?”

“Yes.” Hawke rubbed at the back of his neck. “Schooling is free for magelings in Tevinter.”

“There are places here his nephew can study. Places that, if he has a sponsor, will overlook the elf blood.” Anders chewed on his thumb nail. “Perhaps the money would be best served in moving Fenris’ sister and nephew here.”

Garrett shook his head. “Are you serious?”

“Yes. What happened to him and his family is not right.” Anders rubbed his legs. “He doesn’t need to know it’s from me. I don’t think he’d be interested in taking my help.”

Colla brought a fresh cup of tea and a plate of muffins to the couch, thrusting them at Anders. “You’re a dope. A softhearted dope. And I know this is exactly what Karl would want you to do. Maker, the two of you would probably invite her to live here… Wait…”

Anders gave a weak smile. “That’s a good idea. All this room…”

Colla rolled her eyes. “No, Anders.”

“Fine.” Anders took the plate, gesturing at the coffee table for the tea. “I’m not hungry.”

“Did you eat dinner? Breakfast?” Colla perched on Hawke’s knee, eyes on Anders.

“No.” Anders picked up a muffin and took a bite.

“I’m going to go talk to Fenris. He should have the right to make this choice. To tell you yes or no, Anders.” Garrett stood, carefully moving Colla back to the chair. “Give me a few minutes and we’ll see what happens.”

Colla frowned. “Eat.”

Anders did, devouring the muffins slowly. They were good: lemon poppyseed. They made him realize just how hungry he actually was, and the act of eating gave him something to do while he waited.

“Whatever made you do this?” Colla asked, handing him a blueberry muffin.

“He told me what happened. It made me think about how selfish I am. Sitting in my comfortable home, mourning my husband who gave me years of love. Who left me well off…” Anders gazed out his front window. “Fenris was a slave. He hates me. I should be so angry with him, but all I can think about is how he sacrificed himself for his nephew. I see that all the time, parents sacrificing themselves for their children.”

Colla nodded and then looked up as Fenris and Garrett came back in. Garrett had one hand on Fenris’ shoulder, the elf shuffling a bit as he walked. Stopping in front of Anders, Garrett gave Fenris’ shoulder a squeeze. “Well?” Garrett asked.

“Why?” Fenris kept his head down, his eyes on his feet.

“You’re right.” Anders’s voice was soft. “I see it all the time...the sacrifices made for loved ones. I remember my husband on his deathbed. I would have done anything for him. Anything to keep him. It’s… I understand.”

Fenris glanced up, a quick look, and then resumed frowning at his feet. “It changes nothing. You are a mage…”

“I know.” Anders swallowed.

“But you wish to help anyway?”

“If you wish me to.” Anders chewed on a fingernail.

Fenris finally met Anders’s eyes, confusion and wariness in his. “You will still pay me? And there are no strings?”

“You aren’t my slave, Fenris.” Anders kept eye contact. “Tell Garrett your terms. I have to go to work and clean out my desk.” He stood and slipped away from the group, plate left on the couch.

He heard Fenris ask as he walked into his bedroom, “Did he quit?”

Colla’s murmured response was lost behind the bedroom door.


	3. Chapter 3

Day one of being unemployed was much like being on bereavement leave. He put on basketball shorts and a very ratty t-shirt and took up his usual spot on the patio. A pot of tea, a book, and Pounce and he was set for the day.

Fenris came in, glanced at him, and went to work. Same as usual. The elf bustled about the garden, quiet and taciturn. They exchanged nods at lunch and again before Fenris left. Anders read an entire novel, Fenris finished a section, and the day ended much like any other day - with Anders home alone and not sleeping.

Day two looked like a repeat of day one, at least until Fenris showed up. Anders was sprawled in a chair on the patio, book in his lap, when Fenris stopped in front of him.

“Hmm?” Anders glanced up.

“Did you eat?” Fenris’ ears were turning red, his gaze darting around the patio.

“Pardon?”

“Eat. Did you? Colla informed me you will not unless reminded.” Fenris was now shuffling, swaying a bit.

“I had tea.” The words were hesitant.

“You will eat before I work. I will wait.”

“You...don’t…” Anders started, stopping when Fenris gave him a bland look. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I know. However, Colla and Hawke asked me to, and I will do this for them.” Fenris took a seat and stared out at the garden, ignoring Anders who harrumphed and stomped to the kitchen.

Fenris did it again at lunch and again before he left for the day. Anders grudgingly ate cereal for all three meals, cleaned the dishes, and then went to bed. Where he didn’t sleep.

Day three when Fenris showed up, Anders was eating toast with jam. Anders took a big bite of toast, gaze on Fenris. Fenris watched him chew and then went to work. Anders read until lunchtime and then made himself a small sandwich.

Dinner was another sandwich. Fenris’ ears twitched a tiny bit at that, the elf muttering something about getting some real food into him. Anders ignored him, ate his sandwich, and glared a bit until Fenris smirked and left.

On Day four, Fenris found Anders eating a hard boiled egg. This time he stopped, waited for Anders to finish, and then gestured to the garden.

“You are helping me today.” The words were a demand.

“I’m sorry what?” Anders blinked.

“You will pull weeds. You do not sleep, I can tell. There are deep shadows under your eyes.” Fenris raised an eyebrow. “Put your plate in the sink and then go to the garden.”

“You can’t… I’m not…” Anders sputtered.

Fenris gave a smile, one that made his eyes crinkle. “You will help or I quit.”

Anders stared at him, stared at the garden, and muttered, “Balls.” Pulling himself up, he followed Fenris out to the garden.

“We shall work here. You are to pull up the dead plants.” Fenris sank to his knees by the bed - one overgrown with elfroot, embrium, and lavender. The green of the elfroot only made the bright red and deep purple flowers seem more colorful, more fragrant. Shoulders tight, Anders slid to his knees and reluctantly began pulling weeds.

The soil was cool, shaded by scraggly fruit trees in need of a pruning. Reaching into the bed, Anders grasped at the base of plants that were wilting, that looked sickly, that were dead, and pulled them out. It was a slow process of picking through the plants, tugging out roots and piling them between him and Fenris.

He sank into it, into the rhythm of motion. Into the silence that wrapped around them both. Fenris was as quiet as Garrett had said - not speaking once he started working. He moved with an economy of motion, each gesture meant to accomplish his task. Anders watched those motions and began to mimic Fenris, and gradually the strain eased from his shoulders.

He worked in the garden until lunch, ate, and then returned to pulling weeds. Fenris refused to leave until Anders ate something more than a sandwich, so he broiled some chicken and vegetables, grumbling softly the entire time. He was rewarded with a genuine smile before Fenris left.

***

“Why are you doing this? And don’t say because of Hawke because I don’t believe it.” Anders was kneeling in the dirt, pulling weeds from a different bed today. He had been pulling weeds for a week.

Fenris kept working, eyes on the dirt he was slowly turning over. Anders had given up hope of ever being answered when Fenris glanced at him. “You are helping me.”

Anders sat back on his haunches. “That’s it? But...” He took a breath and let it out slowly. “You hate me.”

“I do not.” Fenris leaned on the hoe, his head tilted. “I dislike mages.”

“I’m a mage,” Anders said in exasperation. “You can’t just decide to like me but hate what I am.”

Fenris snorted. “You are not like the mages I am used to.” That heralded the end of the conversation because he went back to turning over dirt.

Anders glared at him. Fenris gave a little hum. “You are not done yet, mage. There is an entire corner needing to be weeded.”

Anders muttered under his breath and shuffled over to the corner. He glared at the elf and started to viciously pull weeds from the dirt. He threw the weeds in a pile and huffed, cursing softly.

“What is it now, mage?” Fenris had stopped working to watch him.

“I still don’t understand why you feel the need to do all of this.”

Fenris raised an eyebrow. “It is simple. You helped me. I am helping you.”

“This is helping me?” Anders waved a weed at Fenris. “This? Seems like I’m still helping you.”

Fenris smiled smugly. “You are active instead of moping. Eat and sleeping instead of just sitting. Now weed. They will not pull themselves.”

***

“You know.” Anders brushed his hair back, spreading sweat through the blond strands. “We’ve been doing this for weeks now.”

Fenris cocked his head, smirking as he raised one eyebrow. It made Anders shake his head. “The whole you making sure I eat and work thing.”

“Yes.” One word. He had gotten one blasted word from the elf. It made Anders huff.

“You never talk to me.” Anders pouted.

“Words are not needed when we work. It is enough to know that I find your presence...helpful.” Fenris nodded at a shovel. “You may start spreading fresh dirt in that prepared bed.”

Anders, barely, restrained himself from saying something derogatory, instead muttering about stubborn elves and quiet work. Spreading the dirt was grueling work - the type guaranteed to help him sleep.

“Varania and Laith arrived two days ago in Redcliffe.” Fenris’ voice made Anders glance up. “Laith is looking forward to school.”

“Good. That’s...that’s good. Did they settle in alright? Any problems?” Anders leaned on the shovel, chewing on his lower lip. “I made sure the First Enchanter knew Laith’s situation.”

“Varania said the village was bigger than she imagined.” Fenris gave a wry smile. “She has found a job already.”

“Good. That’s good.” Anders rubbed the handle of the shovel. He kicked a bit at a small pile of dirt, glancing over at Fenris. “Are you ok?”

Fenris inspected his hands and then peeked up through his bangs. “I am grateful.”

“You don’t have to…” Anders started, stopping when Fenris shook his head.

“Back to work,” Fenris said tersely, the tips of his ear pinking. He waited for Anders to resume shoveling before he said, slowly, “Thank you.”

Anders just smiled, putting a little more effort into spreading the dirt.

***

There was a rhythm to each day - one that Anders fell into. He worked, ate when Fenris demanded, and then snuggled with Pounce before bed. It was an easy routine, and one that settled his mind and his soul. He slept every night, exhausted from the physical labor, and he woke up feeling rested.

There were still bad moments, but for the most part he felt renewed. Refreshed, even.

The sound of the doorbell pulled Anders from his daily routine. Not many people visited. Colla and Garrett would stop by on occasion. So would Dorian and Bull, neighbors from down the street. Wynne called once in awhile to check on him, filling him in on the latest news and gossip from the hospital. But the doorbell ringing had him giving Fenris a wide-eyed look. Fenris just shrugged and followed Anders into the house.

There was a petite woman on the porch, one wearing a smile three sizes too big for anybody that tiny. Anders blinked as she launched herself into his arms, wrapping both her legs and arms around him. “Oh Anders. I’m so sorry, love. I really am.”

“Neria?” Anders staggered and walked into the house with her in his arms. Fenris closed the front door and followed them to the couch, eyes wide. “What are you doing here? I thought you were elbow deep in medical reform in Denerim.”

“Let’s not talk about it. Alistair did what I wanted him to and that’s that. I heard about Karl, Anders. I’m sorry.” She slid from his arms and touched a gentle hand to his. “And Colla told me you quit. I’m not surprised. Meredith always was a shem. Once a shem…”

Anders shook his head. “Fenris Isley, this is Doctor Neria Surana. Neria, this is Fenris. He’s helping me with the garden.”

Fenris nodded. “Among other things, yes.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I don’t mean to take up your time. I have a proposition for you and then I have to bounce. Ali is at the Keep to meet with the Seneschal and we all know how that’s going to go.” Neria rolled her eyes. “If I get there before cheese meets the wall, we can save ourselves a diplomatic incident.”

“Right.” Anders collapsed on the couch, smiling slightly when Pounce joined him. “Proceed with your pitch.”

“Well, we’re here because we want to expand our Alienage clinics. You know how well they’ve done in Ferelden. The thing is, Orlais isn’t biting. The knife-ears.” Neria turned her nose up and enunciated in an Orlesian accent. “We cannot have them getting affordable healthcare.”

Anders snorted with laughter. “That’s why I’m not in Orlais. Go on.”

“We’re approaching Viscount Tethras about a clinic program here. We need a pediatric doctor. A good one. Somebody that knows kids and doesn’t mind sniffles.” Neria’s eyes grew limpid. “It’s the Maker’s work that you quit, Anders.”

Anders glanced at her. “Can I think about it?”

“You and I both know you’ll be on my payroll before Fall hits,” Neria said.

“I said I’d think on it.” Anders laughed. “Now get. Before Alistair bashes the Seneschal over the head with a cheddar.”

“Please tell Colla I said hi. Oh. And play nice with Fenris. Mm.” Neria gave Fenris as sly smile. “Don’t let him fool you. I knew Anders before Karl and he was always quite the lover boy.”

“Neria! And there she goes. This is how all of my visits with Neria go.”

Fenris was observing him, his head tilted and ears perked. “A lover boy?”

“Yes well. Youth and all that.” Anders waved a hand. “Obviously, I’ve matured.”

“And her offer? Will you accept?” Fenris asked.

“Probably, yes. It would be a good change of pace.” Anders tugged lightly at his hair. “Of course, you would lose me helping you in the garden.”

Fenris hesitated. “It would be good for you.” His ears pinked, and he cleared his throat. “We have more dirt to spread and I saw weeds in the back corner of the garden. Come, mage, you still have work.”

Anders gave a long suffering sigh and followed Fenris to the garden. He missed the tiny smile on the elf’s face as he bent to pick up his shovel.

They worked till the sun was high before sprawling on the patio. They were coated in sweat, dirt, and manure and stunk. Fenris glanced at Anders. “I never said that I was sorry.”

“Come again?” Anders dripped ice water on his forehead, hoping it would help him cool off. All it did was spread around the dirt and muck.

“For your husband. I am sorry.” Fenris ducked his head. “And for the hate.”

“I understand. Sort of.” Anders sighed. “Thank you.”

“You are, ah...how do I say this...” Fenris narrowed his eyes. “It is easier with Hawke.”

“What is?” Anders rolled to his side and winced as the pavers cut into his bare skin.

“Talking.”

“Probably because he never shuts up.” Anders grinned when Fenris rolled his eyes. “That’s ok.”

Fenris glanced out of the corner of his eye. “You are a strange mage.”

“So you’ve said. Many times. Usually right after you insult me.” Anders sprawled back and groaned. “My aches have aches.”

Fenris sat up, eyebrow arching. “You did not let me finish. You are a strange mage. I like it.”

Anders gawked. Fenris waited, his head tilted, for Anders to say something. Anything. Finally, right as his ears started to sag a tiny bit, Anders coughed. “You like that I’m strange?”

Muttering, Fenris flushed. “I do not...that is to say...I like, no, I enjoy your companionship.”

“And the constant nagging and poking?”

Fenris gave a little smirk. “Think of it as encouragement, and encouragement is not always pleasant. ”

Anders snorted at that. Silence settled between them again, a comfortable quiet. Inhaling, Anders glanced at him. “I enjoy your companionship as well.”

“Perhaps we could spend a little more time talking,” Fenris said finally, meeting Anders’ eyes. “I would not be opposed to quiet conversation.”

“Neither would I. It would be nice to get to know you better.” Anders ran a hand over his face and swallowed back the sudden urge to beam.

Fenris stood slowly and stretched, his smirk growing into a tiny smile. “That is good to know. Now, mage, we have more weeds to pull. Come.”

“So demanding.” Anders stood and let out a tiny grumble.

Fenris’ chuckle was gravely as he walked to the garden. Anders watched him for a moment, shook his head, and followed.

***

“And then he said he enjoyed my companionship.” Anders curled up on his couch, eyes wide as saucers. “Do you think he was flirting with me?”

Colla, scrunched up into the big chair across from him, grinned. “Sounds like it. How do you feel about him flirting?”

“Confused?”

“And?” Colla dragged the word out.

“And what? He nags me to eat. He nags me to help in the garden. He nags me about sleeping. He nags.” Anders threw up his hands.

Colla beamed. “What do you think of him?”

“Ah. He’s gorgeous and a nag.” Anders pouted.

“And if he kissed you?” Colla pressed.

“I’d worry that he’d nag.” Anders sighed. “Alright, yes. Fine. I do...you know...watch when he bends over. Sometimes. Stop it, Colla.”

“We should totally do a double date. You and Fenris with me and Garrett.”

“Funny thing that. I saw him sneaking out of your house the other morning. He looked...disheveled.” Anders raised an eyebrow. “You snogging my lawn guy?”

Colla grinned. “Double date?”

“You _are_ snogging my lawn guy! You...you...is his ass as good out of pants as it looks in pants?” Anders leaned forward. “Does his beard tickle?”

Colla ignored the questions. “Where is Fenris anyway? It’s the afternoon.”

“The garden? He’s...oh…” Anders heard the french doors open. “He’s coming to get me. I can feel it.”

“Anders.” Fenris stepped into the living room, stopping when he saw Colla. “I did not realize you were visiting, Colla.”

“Just stopped in to check on him. He looks good. You’re amazing.” Colla hopped up. “Now don’t forget what we just talked about.” Her eyes narrowed on Anders.

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“I love you and I hate you.”

“Gotta run. Garrett’s coming over. Oh. And to answer your questions, they are both a yes.” She waggled her eyebrows and sailed from the house.

“Do I want to know?”

“Probably not,” Anders said, shaking his head. “Ah. Have a seat?”

Fenris sat on the edge of the couch. “Yes?”

“Um…” Anders stared around the room, not meeting Fenris’ gaze. “Fenris. I, hmm, was wondering something.”

“Mage. Spit it out.” Fenris sighed.

“You know, you call me mage when you get naggy,” Anders said. “I just realized that. I’m Anders when you first see me and then I start talking and all of a sudden I’m just ‘mage’. ‘Mage’ this and ‘mage’ that.”

“Mage. You are babbling. And nervous. What is going on?”

Inhaling, Anders just spit out the words. “Would you like to go on a double date with me? Colla and Garrett would be there, and we could do something fun and not threatening?” Anders gave a smile.

Fenris blinked, ears turning red. “You...date? With me?”

“Um. Yes?” Anders blushed.

“Why?”

“Look. I know you nag me. A lot. Frequently. Alright, all the time. But you’re um, I find you very...what I mean to say is.” Anders scrunched up his nose. “It’s amazing I was ever married, you know?”

Fenris’ chuckle sounded rusty. “Indeed. Your flattery is as bad as mine.”

“It’s not that bad,” Anders muttered.

Fenris snorted. “And what would we do on this date?”

“Er. I hadn’t gotten that far.” The look Anders shot Fenris was apologetic. “I’ll ask Colla what she would like to do. If that’s ok with you, of course.”

Fenris looked thoughtful. “Anything but gardening.”

“I think we can manage that. Are you sure you’re alright with this?” Anders chewed on the corner of his lips.

“If you had not asked me I would have found a way to ask you.” Fenris stood. “Now. It is time for us to work.”

Anders goggled. “You would have asked me? Don’t you want to talk about that first?”

“Not when we have work to do.”

“You are such a task master.”

“I shall share a small secret with you.” Fenris slid a little closer to Anders and lowered his voice. “I enjoy watching you on your knees.” He gave Anders an appraising once-over, hummed, turned, and stalked away. “Come along, Anders. The weeds will not pull themselves.”

Anders slowly closed his mouth and ambled after Fenris.


	4. Chapter 4

“I’m sorry, you want to do what?” Anders leaned against the kitchen’s breakfast bar while talking to Colla on the phone.

“I want to go play mini golf at the Fun Zone,” Colla whined. “Please? Garrett says he loves mini golf.”

Anders sighed. “Let me ask Fenris what he thinks. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”

“Fine,” Colla said. There was a pause and then, “Well?”

“Now? While you’re on the phone?” Anders gazed out into the backyard. Fenris was staring at him. It was as if Fenris could tell Anders was talking about him. Fenris tilted his head, stood, and started towards the house. “Oh...he’s coming in.”

“What have you done, mage?” Fenris asked the minute he stepped into the cottage.

“Fenris! How did you know I was talking about you?” Anders ignored Colla’s giggles.

Fenris simply raised an eyebrow and leaned on the other side of the breakfast bar.

Anders coughed nervously. “So. How would you like to play mini golf?”

“Is that a serious question?”

“Er. Yes? Colla was wondering if for our date, you know...something relaxing?” Anders frowned at his phone.

“She is on the phone now, then?” Fenris held out his hand. “I wish to speak to her.”

“Um. Alright?” Anders slowly handed the phone over, watching with barely concealed concern as Fenris turned around and headed to the french doors.

“You will stay there while I speak to her, Anders,” Fenris said before holding the phone to his ear. “Colla? It is Fenris.”

The french doors closed, and Anders watched as Fenris stood on the porch, back to the doors. The conversation didn’t last too long, and when Fenris came back into the house, he had ended the call. Anders chewed on his lower lip and gazed expectantly at Fenris.

“We shall go Saturday.” Fenris handed the phone over.

“Just like that? I mean, I didn’t think you’d wish to play mini golf.” Anders slid the phone into his back pocket.

Fenris raised one eyebrow. “Now that that has been decided, shall we go work in the garden together?”

“I swear, all you want me for is to boss me around,” Anders griped.

“We have work to do. We can discuss this date while digging up the dying pear tree.”

Anders harrumphed, but didn’t argue.

***

Saturday was perfect weather. Warm, sunny, breezy...just right to knock some tiny balls into tiny cups - using tiny golf clubs. The local Fun Zone was packed with families, couples, and groups. Children screamed and ran about, prize tickets clutched tightly in tiny hands while their parents shared long-suffering looks and strolled after them. Tensions were high on the miniature golf course. There was laughter and tears as children and adults pitched fits when their ball ricocheted or landed in a sand or water trap.

For their entire game, Anders had been eyeing his golf club with great amusement. It was too short and entirely ridiculous. Fenris’ face was entirely too stoic, though Anders could see the tiny crinkles around his eyes - proof that the elf was laughing at him. Anders ignored him, bending over and narrowing his eyes at the flag down one hill and up another. There was a sand trap to one side and a narrow bridge with water on the other.

“Come on. Hit the ball already,” Garrett called, Colla’s giggles filling the air.

In response, Anders glanced back and then eyed the hole again, hips swaying teasingly.

Fenris snorted. “Perhaps you require aid? Shall I come help you hit the tiny ball?”

“I think he’d like you to…” Garrett didn’t get to finish his statement, Colla having slapped her hands over his mouth. Suddenly, she let out a shriek and began laughing.

Fenris rolled his eyes as Colla and Garrett tussled. “They are ridiculous. We shall not include them on our next date."

“A second date?” Anders’ head shot up as he gazed at Fenris, tapping his ball blindly. It went rolling down the hill, hit the tiny bridge, curved around the sand trap, and landed in the cup. He hurried to retrieve his ball and step off the green.

Fenris smiled as he set up his ball, ignoring Anders for a moment to gauge the hole.

“Did you hit a hole-in-one again?” Colla groaned. “I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“I do love you. And hate you. How do you do it? I can’t get my ball to do what I want it to,” Colla groused, shaking her club at Anders, who shot her a wide grin.

“First step, don’t shake the stick. Caress it. Secondly, you are too hard on your ball. You want to ease it down the green, not stomp it into submission,” he teased. Garrett snickered in appreciation.

“I’ll have you know that I can stroke with the best of them,” Colla drawled, cocking her hip and sticking out her tongue.

Fenris snorted at that and hit his ball. It wasn’t quite a hole-in-one, but it was close. Close enough to have him strutting across the green to tap it into the cup. He peeked up at Anders and bent down.

Anders cleared his throat, shifting. “Good shot.”

Fenris watched Garrett correcting Colla’s stance. “Do you not wish for a second date?”

Anders flushed. “I would enjoy a second date. Perhaps dinner out?”

“I would like that. Maybe tomorrow night.” Fenris’ lips twitched. “After we finish laying down dirt.”

“Oh, so you’re going to work me to death and then take me out. Fine, fine.” Anders rolled his eyes and sighed as Colla revved up to hit her ball. “What’s taking so long down there?”

“Oh, shut it,” Colla called.

“Do you really think that’s going to help you get a hole-in-one?” Anders laughed.

“I’ll show you a hole-in-one,” Colla yelled, hitting her ball with a bit too much force. It ricocheted off a wall and landed with a sad plop into the water.

“Well...it’s sorta a hole-in-one,” Garrett said, laughing as she threw her club. “Come here you.” There was a shriek and then Colla was up over Garrett’s shoulder. “I say we go get a beer and then drive the bumper cars.”

“Garrett!” Colla wailed. “Put me down.”

“Nope!” He laughed, patting her bum appreciatively. “Nope. I’m enjoying this too much. See you two inside?”

“Sure. I don’t want to be around when you put her down,” Anders said. “She has a nasty right hook.”

“Naw. I got this.” Garrett turned, heading for the main building. Colla met Anders’s eyes and winked, a big grin on her face.

Fenris’ lips twitched. “Want to play skeeball?

“I bet I can get more tickets than you.” Anders picked up Colla’s discarded golf club.

“Do not place bets on things you cannot win.” Fenris’ smile blossomed. “I have very good aim.”

Anders just grinned and followed him into the fun zone. Twenty minutes later and both men had handfuls of tickets.

“I have fifty-six,” Anders crowed triumphantly.

“And I have seventy-two.” Fenris eyed Anders’s pile of tickets. “A good try, but not good enough.”

“Balls,” Anders groused. “So...what do I owe you? More time weeding?”

Fenris tapped his chin. “I shall tell you when we reach your home.”

“Maker, I don’t like the sound of that at all.” Anders groaned, quieting when Fenris raised an eyebrow. “Fine. When we get home.”

“Good. Now, let us find Colla and Garrett. I am rather tired of the noise.”

Colla and Garrett were playing whack-a-mole. They were laughing and joking as their big orange mallets flailed at the gopher heads that popped up to tease and taunt them. Anders waited for the game to wind down and tickets gathered before tapping Colla’s shoulder.

“Ah...would it be ok if we took off?” He smiled.

“I drove us all,” Colla pointed out. Anders groaned. “Lucky for you, we were going to find you two and see if you were ready to leave. After we turn in tickets, of course. I have two hundred.”

“How?” Anders gaped.

“Garrett.” She hopped up and down. “He’s amazing. Amazing!”

“I am,” Garrett confirmed. “Amazing at carnival games at least. And laser tag. You play, Colla?”

Anders opened his mouth and Colla spoke quickly, “I love laser tag.”

Anders held up his hands, backing away slowly. “We don't wish to join you for that.”

“Aww!” Colla pouted. “But we could do teams!”

“Colla. I love you, but the last time we played laser tag you broke my nose.” Anders sniffed.

“It was an accident. Alright. Be back in a moment. Just going to turn in these tickets.” She bounced off, leaving Fenris, Garrett, and Anders staring at each other.

“I hope she gets that little stuffed dragon,” Garrett said, crossing his fingers.

“You would.” Fenris crossed his arms over his chest.

***

“I can’t believe they made us walk up the driveway,” Anders grumbled as he unlocked the front door.

Fenris pressed a hand to Anders’s lower back, gently pushing him into the house. Anders had just enough time to close the front door before he was spun around, Fenris pushing him back and leaning into him.

“Tell me now if you do not wish this,” Fenris rasped and licked up Anders’s neck.

“I want this.” Anders groaned, allowing himself to be pulled down into a rough kiss - all teeth and lips and tongue, Fenris’ hands slipping into his blond hair to tug out the hair tie. There was a moment of fight in the kiss as both men strained, and then Anders cupped Fenris’ face and gentled the kiss.

When they broke apart, Fenris’ eyes were wide. “I…”

“Can I show you?” Anders asked, his fingers rubbing lightly over Fenris’ cheeks. “Rough is ok. Rough is good. But…”

“I do not know how.” Fenris groaned when Anders’s hand slid back to caress one ear. “Gentleness is not something I know.”

“Let me show you,” Anders whispered again. “Please?”

“Alright.” Fenris allowed himself to be gently pushed back. “I...I trust you.”

Anders smiled as he took Fenris’ hand and led him to the bedroom. He tugged Fenris’ shirt off, dropping it to the floor. A trail of clothes followed them to the bed, and Anders slowly pressed Fenris down to the mattress.

Anders kept each stroke and touch sweet and gentle until both men were writhing and panting together. When Fenris moved to roll over, Anders grabbed his hip. “Not tonight,” he whispered.

“But…” Fenris’ words were swallowed in a gasp as Anders kissed him again, his hand moving down to stroke both of them.

“Let me pleasure you,” Anders whispered, pressing gentle kisses over Fenris’ neck, up to his ears to nibble lightly. “Let me do this for you. I want to.”

There were no complaints - no sounds but panting and soft moans. The clutch of strong fingers over still-bony shoulders. The sudden sharp inhale of pleasure as one and then the other crested, shivering and shuddering. The nearly wordless pleas that ended when long, pale arms wrapped around Fenris and held him close, letting him know he was safe.

They lay curled in bed, sticky and still a little sweaty. Fenris twitched slightly, a small frown on his face. “Why?” Fenris finally formed the question.

“Why what?” Anders asked, propping himself up on Fenris’ chest.

“You could have had me. I could have…” Fenris gazed up at the ceiling. “I am used to fast.”

“You deserve better.” Anders trailed his fingers over one nipple. “I don’t want fast. I don’t want...I want…” He frowned.

“How long have you wanted?” Fenris brushed a hand over Anders’ hair.

“Since I saw you. I thought, perhaps, it was just the mourning. The urge to be with somebody - the loneliness making me want more. When you told me how you felt about magic, well...I put it away. I didn’t understand how you could want me to help in the garden...why you were always there to pull me up.” Anders nuzzled closer, lulled by the feeling of fingers in his hair.

“You are a good man,” Fenris said finally. “Annoying, yes. But a good man.”

Anders chuckled.

“I do not wish to go home tonight,” Fenris whispered.

“So stay. I would like it if you stayed.” Anders glanced up into green eyes. Fenris nodded and settled.

“Then I will stay.” The words seemed to resonate, but it wasn’t something either were ready to deal with just yet. Not tonight. But maybe...one day soon…they would touch on what was being slowly built.

***

“Did you eat today?” The words were always the first thing out of Fenris’ mouth when he got home from work. Anders rolled his eyes and hung up his light jacket, ignoring the elf for a moment.

“Anders,” Fenris groused. “I asked you if you ate.”

“I ate, alright? Neria dragged me out for a sandwich and soup. Then I spent the afternoon bandaging up scraped knees and giving shots.” Anders huffed, the huff turning into a happy hum as Fenris wrapped his arms around him.

“Good. I think you should come into the backyard.” Fenris glanced up at him, face neutral - always a sure sign that something momentous had happened. Anders nodded and allowed himself to be led through the french doors and onto the patio.

It had been six months since Fenris had started - and three since they had started dating. The dead and dying plants were gone, replaced with hearty greenery, new fruit trees, and vibrant flowers of all colors. Crushed marble gleamed on the new paths that meandered through the garden and circled the new pond and fountain that sat near the patio. The smells of lavender, thyme, and mint filled the air with every breath of wind.

And every inch of it made Anders think of the elf currently leaning against his side.

“It is done,” Fenris said. “One of the best gardens I have worked on.”

“It’s amazing. As are you.” Anders meant every word.

“Of course, this means I will not be here tomorrow…” Fenris peeked up at Anders and then returned to staring out at the garden.

Anders frowned. “I…”

“Though I suppose I can call you. I have no immediate jobs. We are heading into the colder seasons and gardening becomes less urgent.” Fenris tapped his chin.

Eyes on the garden, Anders felt a crazy idea well up. Certainly Fenris would never go for it. He wouldn’t wish to tie himself down so soon. They had only known each other for six months. Still, the thought of coming home and Fenris not being there...it made Anders’ heart constrict.

“Stay with me.” The words were out before Anders could second guess himself.

Fenris was quiet, gaze still on the garden. Anders’ fingers twisted together, shoulders tense.

“Do you mean that?” Fenris asked.

“I do.” Anders nodded. “I…”

Fenris glanced up at him and smiled. “Yes. Somebody has to make sure you eat.”

“Oh, so you’re moving in to nag me?” Anders teased, wrapping one arm around Fenris.

Fenris chuckled. “Come, mage, we should get some dinner and feed Pounce.”

Anders took Fenris’ hand, a smile on his face. “And after, we’ll take a walk in our garden.”

**Author's Note:**

> I can be found on tumblr as Warriormaggie.


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